


Was It Ever A Question?

by georges1982_96



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, daryl is ace and in a queerplatonic relationship with Rick, mentions of abuse, threats of assaulting a minor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:09:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2891549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georges1982_96/pseuds/georges1982_96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I have no idea where this came from, but here's the first part of it:)</p><p>Basically, the group (which is composed of I think most of the season 2 group and Michonne??? I'm sorry, just don't think too hard about the time line because clearly I didn't) gets captured by the assholes who Daryl with with in Season 4, who are trying to establish a permanent camp. </p><p>Mostly an excuse for hurt!Daryl, let's be real here.</p><p>CHAPTER WARNINGS: violence, threats of underage sexual abuse (but no actual instance of abuse)</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Was It Ever A Question?

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from, but here's the first part of it:)
> 
> Basically, the group (which is composed of I think most of the season 2 group and Michonne??? I'm sorry, just don't think too hard about the time line because clearly I didn't) gets captured by the assholes who Daryl with with in Season 4, who are trying to establish a permanent camp. 
> 
> Mostly an excuse for hurt!Daryl, let's be real here.
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: violence, threats of underage sexual abuse (but no actual instance of abuse)
> 
> Enjoy!

              Hershel stumbled over an exposed tree root and cursed under his breath; it was hard to see anything when it was so dark. He would have fallen if Maggie hadn’t been at his elbow to catch him.

              “Thanks, darlin’,” he said quietly.

              Maggie nodded tersely. She called ahead, “Rick, when are we going to make camp? I don’t know how much longer we can keep going.”

              Rick paused, causing the rest of the group to stop as well. Hershel could see him sizing up the group, taking stock of how everyone was faring after a full day and half a night of walking through the woods.

              Hershel knew he looked like hell; he wasn’t as young as he used to be, and his knees were killing him. Maggie was keeping a brave face, but she was tired as well. She took the opportunity to lean on Glenn slightly, her expression sagging with exhaustion. Glenn supported Maggie, but looked like he was going to fall asleep standing up. Beth could barely keep her eyes open; her face was streaked with sweat and dirt, but she didn’t bother brushing it away. Andrea and Michonne were determinedly trying not to look wiped out, but Andrea swayed where she stood and leaned on Michonne’s shoulder to steady herself. Rick’s eyes fell on his son and his expression softened. Carl had his expression set and serious, but the kid’s shoulders were slumped with exhaustion. Rick’s eyes flickered to Daryl where Daryl stood beside him, Judith strapped into the carrier on his chest. Judith had woken up when they stopped walking and was fussing; Daryl didn’t notice Rick looking at him, too busy soothing the baby to see.

              Rick tore his gaze from Daryl and nodded. “Next clearing we find, we set up camp. Get a perimeter established. We could all use some rest.”

              They started walking again, everyone’s energy slightly heightened by the promise of rest. Rick dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a worn teething ring. He passed it to Daryl, who held it to Judith’s mouth, offering it to her. She gnawed at it, satisfied. Daryl held onto the teething ring for her with one hand and tightened his grip on his crossbow with his other.

              “You good?” Rick asked, watching Daryl out of the corner of his eye.

              Daryl nodded reassuringly. Judith moved her hands to grab the teething ring and hold it on her own.

              “Need me to take her a while?” Rick asked, clearly not convinced.

              It was hard for Hershel to get a read on Daryl. The man kept his facial expression completely neutral, and didn’t betray the same exhaustion the rest of them couldn’t hide any longer.

              “Naw,” Daryl said. “I got her.”

              “She’s not as bad as Carl was when he was teething,” Rick said, moving to walk a little closer to Daryl so their shoulders brushed as they walked. Rick moved his hand to cup the back of Carl’s head tenderly, pulling Carl a little closer. “He screamed for a week solid. Kept Lori and I up all night.”

              Carl ducked his head muttered, “Dad…”

              “Felt bad for the poor kid,” Rick ruffled Carl’s hair. “Hope her teething stays this mild.”

              “This is mild?” Daryl asked, taken aback. His free hand moved to cup the back of Judith’s head and his fingers rubbed soft circles in her soft hair.

              Rick smiled softly at him, and Hershel couldn’t help but smile a little bit as well. Daryl and Rick were not overly demonstrative, but there was a definite softness and tenderness in their interactions that was hard to miss.

              Suddenly, Hershel was being tackled roughly to the ground. He heard Andrea yelling, a deep, unfamiliar voice calling, “Claimed!” and a few gunshots before everything went black.

* * *

             

 

              Hershel woke up when he was dropped roughly onto a cracked concrete floor. He was roughly yanked to his knees, and the barrel of a gun jabbed him in the back. The man holding him grunted, “Stand up, old man.”

              Hershel struggled to his feet. His head was throbbing, and blood trickled into his eyes. He searched immediately for Maggie and Beth; they were being forced to their feet next to him. The group was spread out in a line parallel to the back wall of the room, which looked like an old warehouse.

              A man stood in front of them, his hands on his hips. He grinned at them, his gaze trailing down the length of the line. Hershel followed his gaze, taking stock of the rest of the group. Maggie had a split lip, but Beth looked unharmed. Glenn’s nose had been bleeding, but it looked like it had stopped. Michonne had a growing lump on one of her temples and looked disoriented, and Andrea was nursing a deep gash in her arm. Rick’s eyebrow had split and dried blood coated the left side of his face and was crusting in his thick curls. The left side of Daryl’s face was bruised pretty badly, and his eye was starting to swell.

              Some of the goons moved down the line, patting them down for hidden weapons. The man patting Daryl down let his hands linger. He didn’t let his gaze move from Daryl’s face as he slid his hands down Daryl’s sides and let them move down the inside of Daryl’s thighs, almost caressing the tender skin. Daryl kept his gaze fixed straight ahead; he didn’t let his expression shift.

              Hershel could see Rick’s upper lip twitching, but he held his tongue.

              The man snapped his fingers at one of his men and pointed to Daryl. The man moved to jerk the baby out of the carrier on Daryl’s chest. Daryl struggled furiously against the man holding him back. The man removing Judith from the carrier kneed Daryl hard in the crotch, sending Daryl to his knees. The man holding Daryl jerked him back to his feet, refusing to allow him to curl over to relieve the pain.

              “Goddamn it,” Daryl gasped, still fighting to get to Judith. “Get yer filthy hands off her.”

              The man delivered the baby to the leader’s arms. The leader smiled down at Judith and looked up at Daryl, grinning. “She yours? How old is she?”

              “None of your goddamn business,” Daryl spat, furious.

              The man’s lips pursed into a frown. “No need to be so hostile. I haven’t done anything to her yet.”

              At the man’s words, Rick jerked forward, hoping to take advantage of the distraction of the man holding him back. He got halfway to Judith before he was hauled back in line by two goons.

              The leader raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Well, well, well, calm down there, mountain man. Is she yours?”

              Rick growled and jerked against the men holding him. He didn’t reply to the man’s question, instead demanding, “What the fuck do you want? Who the hell are you people?”

              The leader shrugged. “I’m Joe, and this here is the rest of my group. We just want to welcome you to our little home here.”

              “We didn’t ask to be welcomed into anything,” Rick snapped. “We just wanted to go on our way.”

              Joe pursed his lips and ran a hand through his wavy gray hair. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that. We don’t get a lot of people coming through these parts, and we really need the company. We could always use more people to protect our base here, especially a group as…” the man’s gaze flickered down the row of captives taking in Andrea’s sweat soaked blond hair, Michonne’s thick dreadlocks, Maggie’s thin frame, Beth’s round young face, Carl’s hunched shoulders, Glenn’s dark eyes, Carol’s choppy short locks, Daryl’s scarred arms, and the proud tilt of Rick’s chin. The man paused for a moment before he settled on. “…as interesting as yours.”

              “We ain’t any kind of goddamn entertainment,” Rick snarled. “We’re on our way somewhere, and you’re gonna let us go.”

              Joe shook his head and frowned. “I’m afraid that’s not how this is gonna work. You think I don’t know who you people are? What you’ve done?”

              Rick’s lips curled into a sneer.

              “How lucky are we to have run into you?” Joe said, beaming. “We need people like you here, working for us, fighting for us. We’re stronger in groups. So we’re going to keep you here for when we need you, so long as you conform to a few basic rules.”

              “We don’t want to be a part of your group,” Carl snapped, speaking up for the first time. The man holding Carl was holding him a little too close, his hips pressed right up against Carl’s small frame. Hershel saw Rick go four shades paler when he noticed.

              Joe approached Carl, eyeing the younger man with interest. He put finger under Carl’s chin and forced Carl to look up at him and meet his gaze. He examined Carl’s face and said, “I’m afraid you ain’t got much of a choice, kid.”

              Rick snarled, “Get away from him.”

              Joe let go of Carl and moved back, cradling Judith to his chest. “He yours? Ain’t this one cute little group. All these families together.”

              Joe paced back and forth slowly in front of them, his eyes running down each member of the group. Hershel didn’t like the way he leered at Maggie.

              “Why don’t we get our guests settled in?” Joe suggested suddenly, addressing his men. “Take ‘em to the back room until we need them.”

              The people holding them hostage jerked them towards the back of the warehouse, forcing them to walk. Rick dug his heels in, refusing to move, and snapped, “Give me the baby.”

              “I dunno,” Joe hummed, tickling Judith’s stomach. She giggled and reached up to play with Joe’s long hair. “She’s so sweet. It’d be nice to have her out here for a while.”

              “I’m not going anywhere without her,” Rick said through gritted teeth. He dug his shoulder into the chest of the man holding him, refusing to budge.

              Joe considered a moment before he shrugged one shoulder and said, “Alright.” He crossed the room and set Judith back in the carrier on Daryl’s chest. He secured her tightly and patted Daryl’s cheek, grinning as his fingers scratched at the stubble on Daryl’s jaw. “There you go, Papa Bear.”

              Daryl’s jaw set angrily and he turned from Joe slightly, shielding Judith from him with his body.

              They were all forced into a small room in the back of the warehouse. The walls were made of solid concrete blocks and the floor was cracked and broken tile. Hershel was shoved roughly to the ground next to Glenn and Maggie.

              Joe stood in the doorway and looked over them all, smiling warmly. “Hope y’all have a nice stay. Get some rest, me and my men’ll be back in a bit to go over some ground rules for while you’re stayin’ here.”

              He slammed the door behind him. Hershel heard locks clicking into place and a heavy bar being set across the door. Rick was on his feet immediately, throwing his weight at the door and trying to shove it open. It didn’t budge, not a bit.

              Rick kept at it for a while, while the rest of them examined the room, searching for weaknesses in the walls. It looked like the seams had been sealed with concrete.

              “Rick,” Daryl said after a while, his voice tired and exasperated. He was clutching Judith to his chest tightly, reluctant to let her go after Joe had taken her. “Come on, it’s sealed. We ain’t getting out that way.”

              Rick let out a deep sound of frustration. He slammed his fists against the door and kicked it angrily. He whipped around and sank to the floor, leaning his back against the wall. He buried his face in his hands and just sat there for a few moments, breathing evenly.

              Judith made small noise of distress and twisted her head, looking around for her daddy. Daryl lifted her out of the carrier and held her, bouncing her gently in an effort to soothe her and watching Rick with concern in his dark eyes. Rick dropped his hands between his knees and pushed himself to his feet. He closed the distance between himself and Daryl to take Judith from him. He held Judith in his arms and kissed the top of her head, his hand splayed open on her back to support her. She reached up and tugged at the ends of his loose curls. He gave her a small smile and moved her to rest against his shoulder. She turned her head and pressed her cheek to his shoulder, her small chubby fingers curling into his shirt.

              Rick met Daryl’s eyes for a moment, his gaze heavy and serious. Daryl nodded slightly. Rick moved to check on Carl, examining him for wounds. Carl was quiet; he hadn’t spoken since they’d been locked in and seemed distracted as he helped searched the room for a possible way out.

              Daryl shucked the carrier from his shoulder and rolled his shoulders, getting out the kinks. Hershel imagined he must have been sore as hell after carrying Judith all day. Daryl shook it off and moved to check on Carol, taking her chin in her hand to examine her blossoming black eye.

              Rick gripped Carl’s shoulder tightly and asked, “You okay?”

              Carl glanced up at Rick hurriedly and nodded, clearly holding something back.

              Rick’s eyebrows drew together with concern. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

              Carl shook his head and said, “No, Dad, I’m fine.”

              Rick nodded, still looking concerned, but letting it drop for the moment. He turned to address the group and said, “We need to figure out a way out of here as soon as possible. Anyone got anything?”

              When he was met with blank stares, his shoulders slumped and he nodded. “Okay. Alright. I guess the first thing we need to do is figure out what these people want from us.”

“We need more information on the layout of this place if we’re going to make a break for it,” Glenn agreed, nodding.

Rick nodded. “Good.”

“What do we do until then?” Beth asked, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. She looked so small and exhausted standing between Daryl and Michonne, and Hershel’s heart clenched.

Rick pursed his lips and replied quietly, “We wait.”

             

* * *

             

 

              Hours later, there was no sign of anyone opening the door for them. Carol and Beth were sitting together, entertaining Judith to give Rick a break. Beth had started shivering a couple hours into their captivity and Daryl had given her his jacket, but she was still trembling. Andrea had fallen asleep on Michonne’s shoulder, her blonde hair splaying over Michonne’s dark vest, and Michonne was staring at the door watchfully, her fingers entwined tightly with Andrea’s. Maggie and Glenn were talking quietly in the corner; Maggie had done her best to clean the blood from Glenn’s face with what little resources she had. Rick had, in an uncharacteristic outright display of affection in front of the group, managed to corral Daryl to sit bracketed between his legs so Rick could massage the knots out of his shoulders from carrying Judith all day. Daryl’s eyes had slowly slipped closed under Rick’s ministrations, and his head was sagging forward so his thick hair hid his face. Carl was sitting a few feet away from Rick, staring at the wall across from him. Rick kept casting him concerned glances, but Carl didn’t speak up or look at him.

              Hershel tensed when he heard the locks being undone and the bar being hefted away from the door. Men piled into the room, guns fixed on the group to keep any of them from moving. Daryl’s head snapped up and he automatically moved towards Rick defensively, pressing his back to Rick’s chest. Rick reached out to pull Carl closer to his side. Andrea woke up and her hand tightened around Michonne’s. Maggie glared at their assailants angrily. Carol cradled Judith protectively to her chest.

              “Hope you’ve all settled in well,” Joe strode into the room, clapping his hands together and clasping them in front of him. His gaze fell on Andrea and Michonne and his grin widened. “Oh my. Looks like we have some lovebirds.” Hershel didn’t know if Michonne or Andrea looked more furious. Joe’s gaze flickered to Daryl and Rick and his expression changed from content to thrilled. “And why ain’t I surprised Mr. Pretty Boy has himself a bitch?” Joe sneered at Rick, amused.

              “I ain’t his bitch,” Daryl snarled at Joe, his fingers digging into Rick’s denim clad thigh. Rick tightened his grip around Carl. Joe raised his eyebrows doubtfully, but didn’t press.

              “I made my right hand man, Dan, a promise,” Joe said, turning to nod at the stout man next to him. “And I intend to go through with it. Consider it a welcome to the group.”

              Joe motioned for his men to proceed. One of his goons strode forward and ripped Carl from Rick’s grip. Rick jumped to his feet and started for the man, but found himself being held back by two of Joe’s goons. Everyone else jerked forward instinctively to protect Carl, but froze the guns were pressed to their chests or aimed at their heads.

              Carl was dragged to where Dan was standing next to Joe. Dan got a hold of Carl and pulled the boy to him; Hershel’s stomach sank when he saw it was the same man who had been holding Carl so intimately in the main room.

              “Let him go,” Rick demanded, straining against the men holding him.

              Dan grinned at Rick darkly and pressed his mouth to Carl’s neck, sucking a dark, painful mark into the skin. Carl yelped and squirmed, terror flashing through his eyes.

              Rick let out an absolutely inhuman sound of rage and lunged at the man holding his right arm. He sank his teeth into the man’s neck and tore at the skin there, shocking the man into letting go of him. He slammed his fist into the other man’s crotch and kicked him away. Everyone else seemed so stunned they couldn’t move to stop him. Rick wrestled Carl out of Dan’s hands and shielded the boy with his body when another man moved to try to stop him.

              It took five men to tear Rick and Carl apart. Rick was forced to his knees with a gun pressed to his temple. He was screaming, furious, “Get your fucking hands off him, you sick son of a bitch!”

              Rick was struck across the face with the butt of a pistol. He didn’t even seem to notice, too focused on Carl being shoved back into Dan’s arms again. “I’ll kill you if you lay one fucking finger on him, I will fucking kill you.”

              He was slammed in the face with the pistol again; blood splattered the floor. The man hit Rick across the face again, and again, until Rick had to be held up and was spitting mouthfuls of blood onto the floor.

              Carl was struggling against the man groping him, yelling desperately for his father, his voice breaking and tears running down his cheeks. “Stop, stop! Dad!”

              “Stop!” Daryl’s rough voice rose above everyone else’s.

              Surprisingly, the rest of the room froze. All eyes turned to Daryl. He held his hand out in a peaceful, calm gesture and said, “Everyone clam the hell down.” He met Dan’s gaze and said seriously, “He’s just a kid, man. Listen, take me instead.”

              “Daryl,” Carol protested, but he held out a hand to silence her.

              “Please,” Daryl said, taking a few steps forward. “Please just let him go and take me instead, do what you want with me.”

              Dan’s gaze flickered up and down Daryl’s lithe frame. He seemed to be considering it. He loosened his grip on Carl and said, “You’re pretty enough. You slept with a guy before?”

              “No,” Daryl replied, his eyes flickering to Rick, dark with concern. “I ain’t…I ain’t never...”

              Hershel blinked, taken aback. He would have thought that after becoming so close, Rick and Daryl would have consummated this relationship they’d managed to build.

              Dan’s eyebrows raised and he nodded slightly, grinning lecherously. He let Carl go, and Carl immediately moved to his dad’s side. Dan motioned for Daryl to move closer. Daryl reluctantly complied, ducking his head in an attempt to hide the red blush of shame creeping into his cheeks.

              Dan reached out and undid the first three buttons of Daryl’s loose flannel shirt. Daryl tensed, but didn’t move away. Dan pulled open Daryl’s shirt to get a look at his chest, eyeing the significant scarring there with interest. Rick tensed, distantly aware of what was going on through the haze of blood clouding his vison. One of his hands slid down the bare skin of Daryl’s chest, and he ran his fingers over the raised skin of the scars, smiling darkly. He let Daryl go and nodded shortly. “Alright. You win. I’ll take this one instead.” He said to Joe, pointing to Daryl.

              Joe nodded with an amused smile. “It’s your choice.”

              Dan nodded and wrapped a hand around Daryl’s bicep. He tugged Daryl towards the hall. He shot a leer back over his shoulder at Rick and said, “I’ll have him back by midnight, Dad.”

              Rick blinked the blood out of his eyes and tried to stand, but was forced back to his knees. “Dar—“

              He was hit across the face one more time; it knocked him to his side on the floor, and he didn’t move.

              Joe put his hands on his hips and said, “Glad that’s taken care of. I just want to explain how this is gonna go. You’ll all be put to work. If you want to get fed, you’ll do your work. You’re getting fed tonight because of the work Pretty Boy’s little bitch is going to be doing tonight.” Joe jabbed his thumb at Rick.

              “What kind of work’ll we be doing?” Glenn demanded.

              “We’re building up a wall,” Joe replied. “A perimeter. You’ll each be assigned a section to work on. You’ll be monitored securely, so don’t get any ideas about escaping. Starting tomorrow, you’ll take shifts in groups of four.”

              “Is that it?” Glenn said shortly.

              Joe shrugged and nodded.

              “Medical supplies,” Hershel piped up. “We…we need some medical supplies.”

              Joe pursed his lips and considered a moment. “I’ll send some with the food. You don’t get fed and you don’t get the supplies until Dan is satisfied.”

              Hershel’s stomach lurched.

              Joe and his people funneled out of the room and the door was closed and secured.

              Hershel moved to Rick’s side immediately. Rick was completely unconscious. Blood was leaking from where his eyebrow had been split again, a gash across his temple, a split lip, and a deep cut across his cheek. His lips and teeth were stained with blood.

              Hershel rolled him onto his back and leaned over him to listen to his breathing; it was steady and even, as was his pulse.

              “Is he okay?” Carl asked frantically, looking up at Hershel with wide, frantic eyes.

              Hershel nodded. He balled up his coat and set it under Rick’s head to offer him some comfort and support. “He’ll be okay, he’s just knocked out. He should wake up soon.”

              “He’s going to be pissed when he wakes up,” Maggie said quietly.

              Everyone was quiet for a long time, their minds on Daryl and what he was most likely going through.

              “That man…” Carl shuddered slightly, but forced himself to continue. “That guy is…he wanted to…”

              Hershel reached out and gripped Carl’s shoulder. “Why don’t you and I chat while we wait for your dad to wake up?”

              Carl nodded and trailed after Hershel into the corner of the room. The rest of the group made hushed conversation in an effort to give Hershel and Carl some privacy. He was grateful; this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with the poor kid at all, let alone in front of a group.

              “Carl,” Hershel began quietly. “You know none of this is your fault.”

              Carl swallowed hard and avoided Hershel’s gaze. “He…he shouldn’t have done that.”

              “He wants to protect you,” Hershel said. “You know your dad and Daryl would do anything to protect you.”

              Carl was quiet for a long time before he said solemnly, “It’ll hurt him, though.”

              Hershel bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck. “Has your dad had this conversation with you?”

              Carl shrugged and replied, “No, but I’m not stupid. I’m right, aren’t I?”

              Hershel licked his lips and said, “It…it depends. But…probably, yes. It’s unlikely that man will be careful with him.”

              Carl frowned. “When that guy…when he grabbed me and he was touching me I could feel…I could feel his…” Carl motioned vaguely to his lower half.

              Hershel’s heart clenched with sympathy. “God, Carl. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t…he shouldn’t…”

              “He’d be doing a hell of a lot more if it wasn’t for Daryl,” Carl said softly. He clenched his hands in his lap nervously, his body filled with tension.

              Hershel didn’t know how to get through to Carl that none of this was his fault. He was spared speaking again when Rick groaned softly and shifted.

              Hershel and Carl moved to his side. Hershel gripped Rick’s shoulder firmly and said, “Rick, wake up. You were knocked unconscious. You’ve got to wake up.”

              Rick’s eyes flickered open and he moaned in pain, moving his hands to hold his head; it must have been hurting him like hell. He tried to sit up, but Hershel pushed him to lie down flat. “Don’t sit up yet.”

              Rick rubbed his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut, getting his bearings. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he shot up into a sitting position, shouting frantically, “Carl!”

              “I’m here, Dad,” Carl said, moving into his dad’s line of sight.

              Rick grabbed Carl by his upper arms and searched Carl’s face desperately. “Did they--? Shit, Carl, did he--?”

              “No,” Carl shook his head. “Dad, I’m fine. No one…no one did anything to me.”

              Rick wrapped his arms around Carl, pulling him into a tight embrace. He pressed his face into Carl’s hair and kissed his head a few times, so relieved tears were gathering in his eyes. “Thank God. Thank God you’re okay. Shit, Carl.”

              Carl hugged his dad back, comforted by his dad’s embrace.

              Rick tensed suddenly and pulled back from Carl a little bit, holding him out at arm’s length. “How long was I unconscious?”

              “Just like ten minutes,” Carl said, glancing at Hershel for confirmation.

              Rick nodded, taking in the information and glancing around the small room. He rubbed his temples and asked, “I…and Daryl?”

              Hershel pressed a hand to Rick’s shoulder and pushed him gently to get him to lie down. “He’s still gone.”

              Rick’s mouth tightened into a thin line. He brushed off Hershel’s guiding hands and tried to stand. He overbalanced and would have fallen if Michonne hadn’t caught him.

              She helped Rick to sit down with his back against the wall. Rick was pale, and looked like he was going to be sick. Michonne ruffled his sweaty and blood crusted curls and said lowly, “You can’t do anything until they bring him back.”

              Rick looked pissed, but didn’t argue. He glanced over at Carol and his eyes softened. He motioned to Carol to hand Judith off to him and muttered, “I can hold her.”

              Carol deposited a sleeping Judith into Rick’s arms. She squeezed Rick’s shoulder reassuringly, but Hershel could tell Carol was worried sick herself. She and Daryl were close, they’d both been put through a lot of shit even before the world went to shit, and they’d done a lot to help each other.

              Rick cleared his throat and said, “Why don’t you all get some rest? I’ll take watch until…until he gets back.”

              “Are you sure?” Andrea asked. She peered through the darkness at Rick and said bluntly, “Rick, you look like shit.”

              “He shouldn’t sleep,” Hershel spoke up. “Not with a head injury. He should give it some time before he falls asleep in case he has a concussion.”

              Rick glanced at him gratefully.

              Hershel nodded and took a seat on the floor against the side wall. He intended to stay awake to make sure Rick was okay, but before he knew it, he found himself nodding off.

**Author's Note:**

> So this just randomly happened and I'm so sorry. I hope some people out there dig it, anyway. I'll try to keep up with posting this week:) Shoot me a review if you have the time; they honestly make my day.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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